I'm nineteen years old. I am officially experiencing my last year of teendom. This here is a picture of California Adventure's 'World of Color' show. It's a light and water show that some how miraculously projects images from disney movies onto WATER and plays music and lights a fire under every American's heart. Watching this, with Casey on right (Friday by Rebecca Black reference?) was extremely nostalgic. The whole show appeared to be a personalized trip through memory lane just for me, the first-time-reluctant birthday girl. I also seem to embark on a blogging experience at what-are-typically-pivotal moments in my life. New years is a big one and birthdays are a close second. I just really need to record some where other than in my rinky dink moleskin journal how MASSIVE my eighteenth year of life was. Seriously, everything happened in this year. Got into college, graduated high school, had a real summer, went to college, went crazy, came back to life, met amazing people, and realized how significant my passion to pursue theatre forever is. Boston University, thank you, for defining March 14, 2010 through March 12, 2011. (Because doesn't it always seem like your actual birthday is this some magical invisible day that just stands in time as the greatest day ever but nothing ever actually happens on it?) I guess I've just never had the big birthday thang happen ON March 13th. That day is usually low-key and not appropriate for actual celebration. It's practically sacred. I want to casually blog about my thoughts more often. I don't think I will tell anyone about this blog. Except maybe Megan. Well, just to recap my future self going on a late night internet adventure: it's spring break 2011, I am sitting in my newly redecorated room procrastinating on doing Drama Lit homework (commedia stuff, hope you end up in arrezo). I am also thinking distantly about missing my BU friends. And more closely, I'm thinking back on my high school years--my teendom. That's not a word. I've coined it for the impactful-ness of this blog post. Also, impactful? Not a word. Always gets a little red squiggly under it. Squiggly, on the other hand, IS a word. Also, I might be in love, I might be brilliant, and I might be in need of therapy. One of these things is not like the other! Either way, I'm happy. (I always like ending my streams on consciousness with that. Reminds me that I'm sane. Also makes me think of the moment I realized that was the point to life. I journaled about it too.)
